


Protection

by storytellerof221b



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Annoyance, Bondage, Cane, Collar, D/s relationship, Electric Toys, Gags, Humbler, Inexperience, M/M, Nipple Clamps, Obedience, Orders, Rutting, Suspension, blindfold, blowjob, face-slapping, fantasies, impoliteness, injuries from the battlefield, provocations
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-07
Updated: 2020-09-07
Packaged: 2021-03-07 01:49:00
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 10,235
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26339026
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/storytellerof221b/pseuds/storytellerof221b
Summary: Sherlock and John are dancing around each other. John admires Sherlock for all his skills and beauty. Sherlock wants him on his knees and suck his cock. Sherlock provokes him into action after an incident in the morgue. They play but afterwards, John's injuries from Afghanistan cause him trouble and pain. Sherlock is helpless and doesn't know how to cope with the situation.What is he supposed to do? How can he help John?
Relationships: Sherlock Holmes/John Watson
Comments: 4
Kudos: 19





	1. Chapter One

Sherlock lounged on their sofa with his head hanging upside-down. His eyes were half-closed and his arms were stretched out on both sides resting on the leather. He kept watching John from this position who was in turn watching him.

Sherlock knew that John was attracted to him. He had provoked some reactions to test his theory and he had been right. The question was how far would John go to please Sherlock?

Sherlock wasn’t easy to please. But of course, John already knew that; even though he always tried very hard to make everything comfortable for Sherlock. He made tea, cooked, went shopping and did the washing as well as all the other household chores.

Sherlock had found out he was quite a fighter and a very skilled marksman. Plus, he was also a doctor who could prove useful to Sherlock.

Sherlock also felt rather attracted to him. He was a bit tanned and had a broad chest and muscular thighs. One night he had drugged his tea and examined him when he was unconscious on his bed. He had liked what he found under the blanket.

John indeed was attracted to Sherlock who recognised this at once but John would never admit it. He stated all the time and also very loudly, that he was not gay. And of course, it wasn’t only the being not gay part. Sherlock had very special kinks and wishes which needed to be satisfied. Right now, Sherlock just couldn’t see John in handcuffs on his knees servicing him. This would take time but he would work on it. And after that he would move on.

Sherlock licked his lips and right then met John’s eyes. At once he cast down his eyes and hid behind his book. Sherlock smiled and elegantly rolled off the sofa. It was time for a new experiment.

***

“John?” Sherlock stood by his side and made him look up. John at once concentrated on him and smiled.

“Yes, what do you want?” There was a film playing in Sherlock’s mind palace but instead he said:

“I am going to St. Bart’s. Molly has a corpse for me. Are you coming?” John stood at once.

“Sure thing!” He didn’t even ask why there was a corpse waiting for Sherlock. He went upstairs to get properly dressed meaning he would put on one of his horrible jumpers. One day Sherlock wanted to tie him up and make him watch them all being slowly unravelled.

Sherlock dressed into his every day posh clothes and waited for John at the door. They walked downstairs and as soon as Sherlock stood at the curb, he raised his arm and hailed a cab in the middle of London as if it was nothing. He opened the door and with a gentle shove moved John inside. It was just a press with his fingertips on his lower back and he had stopped twitching after a few days. He got used to his touches and he didn’t mind anymore.  
They rode to St. Bart’s and walked down to the morgue where Molly already waited.

“I have cleared the morgue for you, Sherlock. You owe me.” He just smiled at her and she left. Then he shed his coat and scarf where he stood and donned a pair of gloves. Out of his eyes, he saw John picking up his things and hanging them up for him. Then he took some gloves, too, and followed him to the corpse on the metal table.

Sherlock had lowered his head over the body. His left hand was on the stomach and his right held a scalpel ready to cut through the skin. Gently John laid his hand on his right.

“Sherlock, please use protective gear. You don’t know if this man was sick, do you?” At first, Sherlock was furious but then he thought about the gentleness and the concern and held back his anger. He masked it well and John didn’t notice. Nevertheless, Sherlock thought of punishments and envisioned John to pick his predicament for the night. But that would have to wait.

“Thank you, John. You are right, of course. Could you get it for me then?” No _Please_ but John didn’t really expect one. John got surgical masks for both of them and Sherlock pulled it over his curls.

“What are you up to anyway?” Sherlock concentrated on cutting the corpse open but answered:

“Molly showed me the autopsy report. It looked promising. Death because of nothing. They didn’t find any poison in the blood or drugs. So, I want to check on his stomach.”

“But why are you suspicious?”

“Witness reports of his death. It was in the papers. He died in a restaurant and several people witnessed his sudden death. Also, look at his eyes.” John carefully pulled open the lid. His eyes were blood-shed and he hummed.

“I see.” Sherlock stopped in his doing.

“Do you?” John looked up and their eyes met.

“Yes, I do. He died of asphyxiation. His eyes have broken blood vessels in it and if we would look at his lungs, we would get the last proof needed.”

“Very good, John.”

“I am a bloody doctor, Sherlock. Don’t patronise me.” Sherlock was surprised. He got him. He had hurt his pride. He grinned behind his mask but hid it from his eyes.

“I am sorry, John. I know how good you are.” That statement made him relax at once.

“It’s all fine.” He mumbled and watched Sherlock cut through the flesh like a pro.

“Oho!” Sherlock said a few minutes later and held up a piece of gut. It was swollen and dark. Then he just cut through it and splashed soil over himself. He stood as if nailed to the ground. The smell was horrid and John took everything out of his hands.

“Come on, Sherlock. You need to wash up and disinfect right away.” But he shook his head.

“No, no, no. John, there is something in his insides and I knew it.”

“You will wash up and disinfect right now and I will have a closer look. Go!”

“Help me!” Clearly an order but John just sighed and moved him over to the sink. Naturally, he had worn no apron and his jacket and shirt were stained with gore and blood and other unspeakable things.

“Get out of your clothes, Sherlock.”

“Are you trying to woo me?” John thought it was a joke and smiled. Sherlock slowly undressed until he stood only clad in his boxers and the mask in front of John.

John was stunned. He was indeed beautiful. He had white skin, almost like marble. His limbs were toned and he had a bunch of muscles and an extremely sexy arse. John swallowed. He was not gay. He cleared his throat.

“Where were you hit?”

“Chest and throat, maybe a bit on the forehead?” John stepped up and had a closer look. Then he wiped the gore away and used the disinfectant on him. Sherlock held perfectly still when John removed the surgical mask and looked at his face.

“You are clean, Sherlock.”

“You have to get me clothes.”

“I will get you scrubs.” Sherlock looked shocked.

“I am not wearing scrubs!” John shrugged.

“Well, you have to if you don’t want to get naked under your coat.”

“I’d rather be naked then.” Sherlock was pouting and John sensed a temper-tantrum. Being a little bit on the edge he asked:

“Well, what do you expect me to do then?” Sherlock looked at him.

“Go home and get me some decent clothes!”

“What?”

“You understood me perfectly well, John. Please, afford me some dignity?” He spoke with a low voice and velvet timbre. It went right down John’s spine and Sherlock watched him twitch for half a second. John closed his eyes and sighed.

“OK, but don’t continue on the body. Please, dress into your coat and wait here for me.” Sherlock nodded. Then he watched John leave the morgue. He hopped back on another stretcher and let another film play in his mind-palace.


	2. Chapter Two

John managed to hail a cab and drove back to Baker Street. Somehow, he couldn’t believe he was doing this. But it was Sherlock. He shook his head while walking upstairs and into their flat. He walked straight through into his bedroom and opened his cupboard to retrieve a new shirt and trousers. He neatly folded everything and also added a pair of socks. He found a bag and packed the things into it after he added a pair of shoes, he wrapped into a plastic bag beforehand.

Then his eyes fell on a rather nice box inside his wardrobe. It was made from leather and had a silver looking lock. But it wasn’t closed. It piqued John’s curiosity and he got down on his knees in front of it. He licked over his lips and slowly reached out for the lid carefully opening it.

Then he just fell back on his heels staring into a box full of sex-toys. His eyes were huge when they roamed over the contents. There were over-sized vibrators, clamps, ropes, handcuffs, blindfolds, and gags. He also saw a riding crop, paddles, and canes. He swallowed and suddenly felt the heat crawl up over his chest, neck, and face. He started to sweat and wiped his hand over his lips.

“Fuck …” Suddenly his pants felt really tight. He had always wondered about these things but never really tried. He surely had fantasies but never lived them out. Except for one time at university. This he won't ever forget. But the girl had left and he never found someone like her again. Someone he could trust with this. Someone who shared his secret desires.

Was Sherlock a sadist or just liked to dominate in bed and elsewhere? Well, John knew about elsewhere. Did he like to hurt people in bed? Did he send him home to see this? Would he be willing to give himself over to Sherlock? Did he trust his lunatic flatmate? 

He chewed on his lips and slowly closed the box again. He stood and grabbed the bag.

“Two can play the game.” He muttered. Then he left.

***

He hurried to get back. Sherlock sat on the metal stretcher still only clad in his boxers. He looked at his watch when John entered the morgue.

“What took you so long?” John just dropped the bag in front of his feet.

“You are welcome, Sherlock.” Then he crossed his arms on his chest and widened his stance. He would make Sherlock fight for it.

Him.

Sherlock picked up the bag and thought about it for a moment. He opened the zip and slowly got dressed again. He had goose skin and involuntarily shivered with his cold feet on the ground.

Suddenly there was John by his side touching him. Touching him? He grabbed his arms and rubbed them.

“Oh, you git! I told you to get into your coat, didn’t I?” That move clearly surprised Sherlock. He tensed and didn’t move. No one had touched him like this in ages. No one dared to touch him. No one wanted to touch him? He was confused but let it happen.

Finally, he was properly dressed again and looked at John who expectantly looked back at him. Sherlock wondered what had happened and at once made the wrong conclusion.

“Do you want a reward?” He closed his cuff-links and John just kept looking.

“That would be nice for once.” Sherlock looked up being a bit surprised.

“Bit cheeky today, aren’t we, John?”

“Don’t you like it?” John grinned up at him. Sherlock never understood the concept of flirting but he sensed something was going on. Slowly, he moved closer to him.

“Not really. I prefer a proper behaviour.” John grinned even more.

“Then try and make me behave …” He had huskily whispered the words and Sherlock just stood there looking. Then he smiled and it was a dangerous smile.

“If you wish?” He tilted his head.

“Yes, I do.” Now John even licked his lips and Sherlock’s cock twitched. This move always made him react.

“Let’s go home.” Sherlock turned around and grinned walking out of the morgue. John grinned, too, and followed him. They left the mess behind for Molly to take care of.

***

Standing in their living-room Sherlock turned and faced John again. He slowly dropped both his scarf and coat on the floor. Just as slowly John approached and picked them up. He hung them on the coat-rack at the door. Then he hung his own coat beside it slipping out of his shoes and socks.

Sherlock took the opportunity and quickly was by his side embracing him from behind. John’s arms were pressed against his body and he let out a surprised noise.

“What ...?” Sherlock lowered his head and whispered into his ear:

“You challenged me, John.” He breathed over his ear and his nose moved over his scalp.

“Yes, I did.” Even tone. John didn’t move but tilted his head.

“You asked for it. You wanted me to make you behave.” John chuckled quietly.

“Yes, I did.” Sherlock was a little bit irritated by that. Why wasn’t he afraid at least a bit? He tightened his grip a bit more and felt John widen his stance. The same moment John turned in his arms, rammed his elbow into his gut and threw him over his shoulder.  
Sherlock made a noise which came close to a shrieking. He landed flat on his back and stared up at John who stood above him.

“Well, try again.” His face showed a very smug expression when he just walked away into their kitchen and started to prepare tea.

Sherlock wasn’t easily surprised but now he was. He wasn’t hurt though. He knew John would never hurt him. He stayed put for a few more seconds and thought about what happened. Then he slowly got up and walked over to him.

“I clearly underestimated you.”

“You also treat me like shit. If you want something just ask me. You have to learn to live with denials.” Sherlock leant against the counter pouting.

“In case they happen.” Now they smiled at each other. The water had boiled and John poured tea into his mug. Sherlock looked and finally asked:

“Don’t I get a tea?” John tilted his head and raised his eyebrows.

“Please.” John smiled.

“Of course, Sherlock.” And he poured water into his mug and also added sugar and milk as he knew he liked it. He shoved it over to him.

“Thank you.” He walked over to his armchair and John followed him. He sat opposite him and looked over the edge of his mug.

“John, I think we need to talk.”

“I think so, too. Most of all because I found your box when I got your clothes.” That made Sherlock look up. He very thinly smiled.

“And you just couldn’t resist looking, could you?” John shook his head grinning.

“No. I know it’s bad behaviour. I admit it. You may punish me for it.”

“Do you trust me?”

“To an extent.”

“That’s good enough for me. Safeword?” He kept sipping his tea.

“We need more negotiating. My safeword will be _Brixton_.”

“Just tell me your no-goes.”

“Blood-play, faecal, sharing and group meetings.” Sherlock very thinly smiled. This was better than he had expected.

“Meaning I can use almost anything to shove into you or hurt you?” John shrugged.

“I have some experiences with pain and yes you can.”

“How long haven’t you played?” John snorted.

“The last time was when I was at university and I will never forget.” Sherlock nodded.

“I see.” Then he stood and finished his tea. He walked into his bedroom and returned with his arms full of stuff. John was hard again. Sherlock dropped everything right at his feet.

“You have to adjust again. Are you up for a game tonight?” John looked at him and kept sipping his tea. Then he nodded.

“Yes, I am up for some adjusting.” Now Sherlock really smiled and it lightened up John’s being. Sherlock sorted through the things and finally decided on several lengths of rope.

“Do you trust me?” The most important question asked again and John swallowed.

“As much as you trust me.”

“I see. Well, here are the rules. You do what I tell you whenever I tell you. You have a safeword; so please use it if necessary. I might get carried away.” He moved his fingertips over John’s face who sucked in his breath.

“Oh, and from now on I am _Sir_ to you. Do you understand, pet?” John swallowed but then decided to have a go.

“Yes, I do understand, Sir.” Sherlock tweaked his ear.

“Very good. Then get up, you lazy sod, and undress right here.”

“Yes, Sir.” John quickly stood and got out of his clothes. Sherlock watched him and when he stood there only clad in his boxers, he told him to stop. John froze and wondered.

“You have been leaking already. You are such a fine slut.” John blushed making Sherlock snicker. Then he walked behind him and pulled his arms behind his back. He tied his wrists to his elbows. When he was done, he had a look at John’s front again. He hummed.

“Well, well. Slut.” He pressed on his still confined cock. John managed to stand still in his grip but his mouth stood open and his pupils were completely dilated. Sherlock whispered:

“If you come before I allow it, the punishment will be severe. But you may ask for help at any time.”

“Thank you, Sir. I need your help with this, Sir.”

“What do you have in mind, pet?” Sherlock scratched over his groin feeling John’s cock twitch. He grinned. John gasped but still didn’t move.

“Please, Sir, use a cock-ring. Much better would be a harness, of course.”

“Perfect suggestion, pet!” He took a smaller piece of rope and hooked his fingers behind the hem of John’s boxers. Then he pulled them down and let them slide the rest of the way down to his ankles. John stayed where he was.

“Get up on the coffee table and spread your legs.”

“Yes, Sir.” He quickly moved over. Sherlock followed him and just rudely pulled his balls. John’s erection flagged at once and he hissed while Sherlock tied the rope around his balls and between. From there he led the rest of it around his prick and tied it off right under the head. It was rather tight and John wouldn’t be able to come with it around his flesh. Plus, the knot had been tied directly beneath the most sensible part. He looked down at it and swallowed. Suddenly Sherlock smacked his prick.

“I can’t hear you, slut!”

“I am sorry, Sir! Thank you, Sir, for helping me!” Sherlock looked pleased.

“Let’s move on then.” He walked him over to the sofa and sat down. He made John kneel by his side. His head was bowed and he looked on the floor. Sherlock was pleased.

“Spread your knees some more.” He did.

“You were looking into my box.” John swallowed.

“Yes, Sir. I am sorry, Sir. I was not allowed to and it isn't proper behaviour.”

“That's bloody right, pet. You may expect a punishment.”

“Yes, Sir.” Sherlock stood and carded through his short-cropped hair.

“Stay.” John could hear him rummage through the things he had brought. Metal clinked when he came back and stood behind him.

Very slowly he moved a collar around his neck. John had to close his eyes. This was his fantasy. His mouth stood open and he almost drooled. Sherlock hooked his fingers between the collar and his neck and pulled him back on his feet. He walked around him and started to tease his nipples until they stood out and John shivered. Then they got clamped and the screws were very tight. He groaned loudly and closed his eyes.

He couldn't get any harder and his prick hurt like fuck inside the bindings. Two tears spilt out of his eyes and he once sobbed.

“Stay still, slut!” He smacked his face once and John closed his mouth and stood still.

“I need to know how much you can stand. And I will find out tonight.” John watched him donning gloves and slick his fingers. He swallowed. He had never been penetrated by more than his own finger. He thought of the plugs he had seen inside the box. But he had said he trusted Sherlock. He wouldn't really hurt him. He hoped. And he had a safeword.

“Bend over, slut!” John did and presented his backside. One of Sherlock’s plastic-gloved hands was placed firmly on his cheek and the other moved between his rim and around his hole. He really tried to relax but he jerked away when Sherlock poked on his hole. At once the chain dangling from the nipple clamps got pulled making him groan.

“You are in need of some training, slut. Get down on your knees and chest on the floor.” John dropped down and obeyed. This position exposed him even more. He really tried to hold still when Sherlock’s finger pressed inside but he just kept wiggling and hissing.

Sherlock hit him hard several times on his cheeks and thighs. It hurt and his head came up again.

“If you need to safeword, then do it. Otherwise, I advise you to behave!” John sobbed.

“Please, I need your help, Sir. I am not used to this, Sir. Please, help me!”

“As you wish!” He pulled him up again and moved him into his bedroom. Next, he attached cuffs to his thighs and ankles. He made him kneel again and connected them. His collar was hooked to the floor. The chain was hooked to his cock. Next, he shoved a plug-shaped gag into his mouth and buckled it tight.

“Listen, if you need to safeword, cross your index and middle finger. Understood?” John nodded.

“This training lesson is about moving around. You are not supposed to, that is the point. So, the lesson starts now.” He untied his genitals and pulled back his balls to put a humbler on him. No matter in what direction he moved now, he hurt himself. He was sweating and moaned behind the plug.

Soon after he felt his slicked-up finger probing on him again. This time he stayed put. He just had to. Sherlock shoved his finger deep inside and pressed down on his prostate rather soon. The pleasure shot through his spine, his whole body, and he shook. Pain. Pleasure. He couldn't decide. He cried desperately. Sherlock giggled and added the second finger spreading them wide inside him. His cock hurt, his balls hurt, he hurt. But there was pleasure, too. He sucked on the plug inside his mouth to distract himself a bit.

Suddenly Sherlock stopped and binned the gloves. Instead, something big touched his backside and slowly breached him. When it finally settled deep inside of him, he was trembling like a scared animal.

Sherlock soothed him by moving his palm over his back rather tenderly.

“Hush, pet, you are doing fine now. I am proud of you.” He tied the straps around his thighs to prevent the plug from slipping out. Then it started to move and kept constantly rubbing over his prostate. John bit into the gag and tried not to move. Instead he wildly clenched around the plug.

“Very well, pet. Looks good to me.” He walked around him and ruffled his hair.

***

John was trained for hostage situations. He knew how to stand torture, too. So, he stayed put and gave in to the situation. Sherlock was rather amazed by now; he could feel it.

But Sherlock wanted a reaction, any reaction. He got out a cane. He smacked it on his cheek and elicited a rather nice shriek of surprise. A beautiful welt formed on his bum and he hit the other one, too, just for good measure. Then he took off the humbler and once hit his balls making him scream. He checked on his fingers but they weren't crossed.

He took off the leash from between the collar and his prick and also made him come up from the floor again. He got dizzy at once and had to close his eyes for a moment. Sherlock put his hand on his shoulder to steady him. He let go when John gave a nod.

Next, he unhooked his legs and threw him chest down on the bed. He deeply groaned when he fell on the clamps and his prick was pressed into the mattress. He cuffed his ankles and pulled his legs up to connect a rope between his ankles and his wrists.

“So perfect for me ...” He carded through his hair again. He also palmed his crotch. His own cock was straining against his silken boxers and he gave in. He hooked the chain from his collar down to his wrists and forced John's head up.

His knees bent a bit and he saw John look at his rather impressive cock. He undid the gag and John coughed which did him no good with his head forced back. Sherlock freed his cock and moved the tip over John's lips smearing pre-cum all over his face. John hiccupped and didn't dare to make a move.

“You learnt something. Very good, pet. Now lick me, suck me, please me.” Sherlock was excited. He was fairly sure John never had sucked cock. Probably cunt, but not cock.

John in the meantime thought about what women had done to him in the past. He thought about what he had liked and then started to work on Sherlock’s member. At first, he only licked around the head. Then he suckled a bit. He strained his neck and bopped his head to get him into his mouth. His jaw cracked and his lips were firmly pressed around him.

Sherlock didn't move. He only watched. Felt.

John's muscles were short of cramping and he had made it only half-way. He tried to look at his cock and his eyes almost crisscrossed with the effort. He wanted to show him he could do this, he needed to show him. He concentrated on the task at hand and forced himself down. When it touched his throat, he was able to suppress the gagging and instead swallowed and breathed through his nose.

Sherlock was taken by surprise by that move and let out a noise. His hands fisted John's fine hair and held him in position for several seconds. Their eyes locked. He let go again and John kept sucking and doing his magic. And magic it was.

Sherlock was close and his balls were pulling up. John could feel it, too. Sherlock checked on his fingers again but all of his fingers were spread as if to signal something.

When Sherlock suddenly came, he threw his head back moaning loudly. He shot his cum deep down John's throat who swallowed everything. Tears spilt freely from his eyes now and when Sherlock slowly pulled out masses of spit followed. John was panting like a fox being chased. His whole body trembled and cramps shot through his limbs. Sherlock quickly undid all cuffs and ropes. He took away the collar, too, and turned him carefully on his back.

“I am getting the clamps off now. It will hurt.” John curtly nodded and Sherlock got them off. John shrieked very hoarsely and shed some more tears. He sobbed when Sherlock started on his cock. It was a dark angry red and pulsed. Gently Sherlock took it and blew over it. John sobbed and cried some more and his head moved over the pillows. Sherlock lowered his head and suckled the top, moving his tongue over the slit and pressing into it. His free hand undid the harness which held the plug inside his back. It was still working him up. He reached between his legs and while sucking him halfway into his mouth he pulled it out. John shouted roughly or more likely barked when he came like he had never come before in his whole fucking life.

It was bliss, blinding white lights, stars moving before his very eyes. When he was spent, he looked up at Sherlock whose face was plastered in sticky cum and so was his neck and shirt. He looked taken aback but not angry.

John tried to move away and get up but he couldn't.

“What are you trying to do, John?” John mumbled something like _Upstairs_ and _My room_ but Sherlock pulled him back.

“No, stay. I will take care of you. Don't move.” John's head lolled from side to side and he just closed his eyes. Soon after he felt some warm towels move over his body and Sherlock gave him a perfect massage. He also bandaged his wrists and put some cream over and into his anus. When he was done, he pulled the duvet over him.

“Sleep, John.” John was happy to oblige and relaxed. He was gone in a second.

Sherlock watched him for several minutes but he didn't move or twitch. Only then he changed into something comfortable after he cleaned himself up a bit. He never expected something like this to happen. But it had been great. John had been great. He was sure they could do it again. He rubbed his prick through the garment and sighed. He was half-hard again. Then he climbed into bed beside John and pulled him close. He didn't move away. His body was limp. Sherlock’s cock was pressed against him and he rutted carefully until he came. Only then he let go and fell asleep, too.


	3. Chapter Three

Sherlock slept for a few hours and woke when the first rays of the sun shone through the not closed curtains of his bedroom.  
At once he remembered what had happened last night, what he had done to John and what John had done for him. And he smiled broadly with his eyes still closed. He threw off the blanket and rolled out of bed. He turned his head and looked at him. He was still deep under. His hair was a mess and there were traces of dried cum Sherlock hadn't managed to clean away. Now Sherlock grinned. He didn't want to wake him and quietly used the loo. Afterwards, he donned his dressing-gown and padded into the kitchen to brew coffee. Normally he didn't do this himself but regarding what he had done yesterday, he thought he could do him this small favour.

His head shot up when he heard the thump coming from the bedroom followed by a quiet groan. He hurried back inside and found John right in front of the door to the bath. He was down on the hardwood and he looked as if being in pain. 

“John!” Quickly he rushed over and knelt by his side. He tried to touch him but John swatted his hand away.

“Don't!” He hissed and it sounded painful. Sherlock was taken aback but let go. Obviously, John was in pain.

“What happened?” Sherlock asked and tried to look for an injury but there wasn't one.

“My damn leg. It wouldn't hold me when I got up...” John roughly whispered massaging his thigh with the palm of his hand.

“Why didn't you call me? I could have helped...” Sherlock said not knowing what he could have done actually.

“I just needed the loo but my leg was hurting. I limped over here but then it got too much.” He angrily shook his head. Sherlock had no idea what to say.

“Get my cane, will you? Then you need to help me up.” John stayed put and Sherlock quickly retrieved his old cane from upstairs. He angrily looked at it but hurried back downstairs.

John pulled himself up holding on to Sherlock and snatched his cane. He disappeared into the bath and he was badly limping.

Sherlock lowered his head and turned away. He returned into the kitchen to finish the coffee. It was ready when John appeared clad in his bathrobe. And he was still limping. When he reached for his mug, his hand had a tremor. It was just as it had been when they had first met.

And suddenly it dawned on Sherlock. This was his fault. He had done this to John. He had tied him up and made him suffer through the stress-positions. Sure, he had given him a safeword and he had relied on him to use it if necessary. But he should have known better. He should have seen. And he cast his eyes.

“I am not angry with you, Sherlock.” John suddenly said. Sherlock wouldn't look at him though.

“I had a safeword but I didn't use it. I desperately wanted to experience. And let me tell you, it was great. You were great. Wonderful. I had the best orgasm ever. But my injuries got the better of me. I am, after all, a crippled ex-soldier.”

Sensibility and empathy weren't Sherlock’s forte. He had no idea what he should do. The only thing he knew was that John needed help. Help, Sherlock wasn't able to provide.

“Tell me what you need. I'll provide it. Whatever.” Sherlock said.

“Warmth. Perhaps you could arrange a massage?” John still didn't look at him.

Sherlock lit a fire at once and shoved John's armchair closer to the fireplace. John limped over holding his mug. Sherlock helplessly looked at him and wondered if he wanted breakfast. He surely wanted breakfast. He snatched his wallet and dashed downstairs into Speedy's to fetch it. He still had bare feet and only wore his dressing-gown.

“Sherlock?” John called out but Sherlock was gone already. A few minutes later he was back with a large bag holding breakfast. He put everything on a tray and carried it over.

“I didn't know what you wanted. I hope it is enough. If not, I will get more.” John took the tray and placed it on his lap. It was a full English breakfast and a tad bit more. He smiled up at him.

“Thank you. It's fine.” He clearly enjoyed this and Sherlock relaxed just a little bit. He still felt utterly helpless. He wasn't used to being helpless or even serving people. People were serving him in every way possible.

He watched John for a few more seconds but he simply ate. Sherlock turned away and showered. He dressed into one of his bespoke suits and made himself ready for the day. He wanted to buy several things for John.  
He returned to his side.

“John, I'll be gone for a bit. Please, don't leave Baker Street without me. I'll be back as soon as possible. Here is your mobile, just in case of an emergency. I will alert Mrs Hudson. If you need anything, she will be up in a second.”

“Just great.” John thought.

“Now I am in need of an elderly woman to assist me.” But he didn't say it out loud. Instead, he smiled up at Sherlock.

“Thank you. I am fine. Just go.” He waved him off. Sherlock cast him a last glance and finally hurried away. He hurried downstairs and John was able to hear him thumping down. Seventeen times.

Angrily, he kept massaging his legs while having breakfast. But he actually enjoyed it. Sherlock had brought him breakfast and even lit a fire. He shook his head and grinned.

The warmth felt wonderful and he closed his eyes. His spine was still a tiny bit tingly and he remembered what happened last evening and night, what Sherlock had done to him. What Sherlock had made him do.

John swallowed. He had never sucked cock before and yesterday he had sucked Sherlock. He had sucked Sherlock while being tied up.

Last night had been the best he ever had. Sherlock was a genius regarding the sex. He had been dominating him and it had been perfect.

John sighed. It had been so wonderful and he hadn't wanted to stop. He hadn't safeworded, not even when he felt it becoming too much. His limbs had been tied into positions a bit not good.

He had been acting stupid. Sherlock felt guilty now but it wasn't his fault. He had been wonderful.

John sighed and finished his breakfast. Single-handedly he brought the tray back into the kitchen and put the used cutlery and plates into the dishwasher. All the things he had been teaching himself after coming back from the war came now back to him.  
He picked up his laptop and sat down on the sofa. He did some research on bondage and injuries and found many good advice. He didn't want to give this up. And he needed to convince Sherlock that it wasn't his fault.

***

Sherlock bought different oils and creams and even went into a special book-store to find information regarding bondage and disabled people. The guy in the shop knew him quite well and helped a lot. He actually advised a swing and a suspension rack. He gave Sherlock several magazines and leaflets who thanked him a lot. He wanted to give him something but the man denied him vehemently shaking his head. Sherlock stuffed several notes into a huge glass already filled with many coins with a label on it saying _Coffee_.

He checked the time on his mobile standing outside and decided he had been gone long enough. He hailed a cab and rode home.  
Downstairs he met Mrs Hudson who was cleaning the aisle.

“Is everything alright, Hudders?” He asked concerned. She looked up at him and gently smiled.

“Sure. I heard him limp through the flat but everything seems to be OK. It's just as it was at the beginning with you two, isn't it?” Sherlock sadly smiled.

“And that means, young man, it will go away again soon again because only you can keep him busy and make him forget.” She boxed his arm and the smile on Sherlock’s face was back up.

“You are right, Mrs Hudson, as always.” He dashed upstairs and entered 221B. And he smelled food.

“John? What are you doing?” He placed his bags on the kitchen counter.

“What I always do. I am cooking some lunch.” John looked over his shoulder but Sherlock wouldn't meet his eyes.

“I was planning to give you a massage.” He said instead looking utterly helpless.

“Really?” John looked rather interested, Sherlock thought and nodded.

“Yes, really.” Sherlock’s fingers twitched and John knew he was still feeling guilty. This wasn't good.

“Very well. Hang up your coat and have lunch. Just a little bit. Then I will happily accept your kind offer.” John said.  
Sherlock turned away and shed his coat to hang it up. He washed his hands and took the plates and everything else John had taken out to set up the table.

Right now, he actually wasn't sure if John even wanted to continue what they started. He arranged everything to perfection and wondered if he liked a wine. Actually, he liked one himself and opened a bottle.

John limped over with the help of his cane and a bowl with risotto was cradled in his arm. Sherlock swallowed but let him. He wasn't hungry at all and took only two spoons full at first. But then the smell hit his nose and he felt the hunger in his intestines. He even felt a bit dizzy. He also wanted to drink wine, so he started to eat.

John was very pleased when he saw him eat more than he had taken first. They sipped the wine and it was quiet between them. But it didn't feel bad.

“Listen, mate.” John said and Sherlock’s head shot up. He swallowed and almost choked on a piece of beef.

“Yes?” He cleared his throat and quickly sipped some wine. John smiled.

“I want you to know that it wasn't your fault what happened. I could have safeworded but I didn't. I wanted to experience to the full extent. I had a wonderful time being dommed. You are a wonderful dom. I just should have known better.” John seriously looked at him and Sherlock slowly exhaled.

“You know, safewords are as much for you as they are for me. I should have used them. I should have seen you were in a stress-position for far too long and what it would cause you. So, it is really my fault. I was responsible for you and I failed you. I am anything but a so-called _wonderful dom_.” Sherlock snorted.

“Let's agree on being both foolish then, shall we?” John said with a smile. A small smile showed on Sherlock’s lips after a few seconds.

“I think I can agree with that.” He said reaching out for John's hand.

“I am looking forward to the massage.” He whispered and suddenly Sherlock felt warm.

“We will need to wait for a bit after just having had lunch. But I want to talk to you about something I found out this morning.” Sherlock explained.

“OK? Does it have to do with your shopping?” John pointed over to the paper-bag on the counter.

“Yes, it has. I did some research and I want to show you something.” John shrugged and expectantly looked at him.

“Let's clear the table and sit on the sofa.” John stood and wanted to take the plates but Sherlock stopped him.

“No, I'll do it. Go and sit. I'll be right with you.” John didn't argue since he knew it was senseless. Sherlock stuffed everything into the dishwasher and even cleaned out the pan putting the left-over into a box and right into the fridge. He wiped all the surfaces and finally picked up both the bottle and the glasses as well as the paper bag.

John looked curious when Sherlock reached inside and got out a leaflet.

“I think this could be a solution for your injuries. It won't put too much strain on them.” He held it out for John to take but his face hardened. It softened soon enough.

“What is it?” He quietly asked taking the folder.

“Look at it and tell me what you think.” Sherlock filled their glasses while John started to read and look at the pictures. Finally, he looked back up and took his glass. He sipped some wine before he spoke again.

“This really seems to be a great idea. I like the idea of being suspended. But where would we go to be able to do that?” John curiously asked.

“Nowhere.” Sherlock simply said. John needed a few seconds to understand.

“What? But where?” He looked quite a bit confused.

“I thought about my bedroom. We were having sex in there anyway and it is the most comfortable room.”

“But you would have to change a lot.” John said but Sherlock just shrugged.

“I don't mind to change it for us.” They looked at each other and John felt suddenly utterly warm inside.

“Do you know how to do it?” John asked.

“No, but I know people who do.” Sherlock sounded very convinced.

“But it surely is very expensive.” John came out with the most important issue.

“As I said, I don't mind. It is for us. It's like buying some new furniture.” Sherlock just shrugged it off.

“Are there different systems?” John asked being very interested and Sherlock relaxed just a little bit.

“Yes, I have many leaflets about systems and attachments. You can do quite a lot with it.” He got them all out and placed it on John's lap.

“Look at it all and tell me what you like. I have already checked through them during the cab ride and I want to compare our opinions.” He leant back into the sofa holding his glass of wine. He watched John while he looked at everything. It took him about one hour in which Sherlock finished off the bottle of wine and also smoked several cigarettes by the open window.

John didn't fight with him about it. He knew he was still stressed. Plus, he hadn't smoked for a long time and who was he to forbid things?

“Well, I have read it all and I think I know what is the best.” John looked up at Sherlock who had hurried back to his side and now dropped back on the sofa.

“Which one?” He just asked. John showed him and explained also about the best attachments. Sherlock chewed his lips for a moment but then nodded.

“Yes, I thought just the same about the system. Your ideas about the attachments are much better though.” He broadly smiled at John and wanted to hug him. John though leant back and shook his head.

“Brush your teeth first, please. It's not pleasant to kiss a cold ashtray.” Sherlock tensed for just a second but then pouted. He quickly rose afterwards and dashed into the bath.  
John grinned. This was clearly the best way to make Sherlock stop smoking once and for all.

He reached for his wine and emptied his glass. His life was great with Sherlock. They had finally admitted what they felt for each other and John had given in to his greatest desire.

Sherlock’s behaviour most of the time had been dominant and he had acted like an arse but finally he had provoked John into action. It had probably been Sherlock’s plan from the beginning and John had fallen for it.

Sherlock came back from the bath and smelled much better. He slowly approached John who looked up at him. He straddled him on the sofa and carefully sat down on his lap. His large hands were placed on his shoulders and he lowered his head.

John tilted his head back and closed his eyes. He opened his lips and Sherlock poked his tongue between them. John sighed and wanted to touch him but Sherlock shook his head.

“No. Hands down, John.” He let his hands drop down and roughly breathed.

“Very good, John. Do you remember I promised you a massage?” He whispered directly into John's ear who nodded.

“Yes...” John slowly nodded.

“I think it's time for that now, don't you?” He asked closing his teeth around his earlobe and biting and pulling. This was the most erotic point on John's body and Sherlock had found out very soon. John was melting beneath him and he felt his cock against his own. He started to move his hips and rutted against him while he sucked at his earlobe and moved down his neck. He pulled back his jumper and kissed his shoulder.  
John groaned loudly and his hands twitched but didn't come up.

“Very good, John. You are just perfect. Come on now and get up.” Sherlock whispered and moved off his body. He gently pulled John into the bedroom and undressed him.

“Get down on your front and relax” Sherlock ordered and John simply climbed on the bed. His body was warm and he felt great. He was going to submit very quickly, in fact, he already had.

Sherlock shed his jacket and rolled up his sleeves. John always wondered how he managed to make both arms look exactly the same. But this was Sherlock so why even ask?

He chose a bottle from his purchase and straddled him again. Now he sat half on his arse and rubbed the oil into his back. John further relaxed. It smelled wonderful and felt a bit tingly on his skin.

“Oh...” He moaned. Sherlock kept going and rubbed it in. Then he chose the next and now gently massaged his shoulders. At first, it must have hurt him because his body tensed and he scrunched his eyes closed but it got better after some minutes.

“You are a saint...” He roughly whispered.

“I am nothing but.” Sherlock replied but John just huffed.

“How do you know to do this?” John quietly asked.

“I googled it while I bought the oils and picked up the leaflets.” Sherlock replied.

“You learnt to do this on the internet?” John asked.

“YouTube has many great lectures.” Sherlock just said and John smiled. Suddenly Sherlock straightened up and turned around facing John's legs. He started to massage his thighs and John spread them.

“Oh...” He moaned and further relaxed when Sherlock reached beneath his thighs working up to his cheeks.

“Tell me, John, are you hard already?” Sherlock whispered.

“God, yes...” John groaned.

“You would really like to rut, am I correct?” Sherlock asked another question.

“Yes...” It sounded rather desperate.

“But I won't allow it, John. You are not allowed to rut; do you hear me?” John could only nod. Both his arms and legs twitched.

“I can't hear you, John. Surely, you don't want me to believe you are a slut who can't control himself?” Sherlock dug his fingers into his cheeks and John loudly groaned into the pillow.

“I am not going to rut, Sir. I will control myself for you, Sir.” John's hands were tightly holding the pillow.

“That sounds very good to me but will you manage? Really manage?” Sherlock asked pulling his cheeks apart and rubbing his thumbs over his hole. John's arse came up. His body reacted to the stimulation.

“I am sorry, I am so sorry, Sir!” John at once stilled but panted heavily.

“I could always offer assistance, you know? Would you like my help?” Sherlock asked rubbing over his perineum. John's head shot up.

“Yes, please, yes, Sir...” His body shivered and his eyes were closed.

“Stay put, John.” Sherlock got off the bed and John weakly nodded. He felt utterly helpless. Being dominated like this, dominated by Sherlock, did something to him. He was submitting way too easily and he had no idea why.

John waited for Sherlock to return. He heard the paper bag rustle when Sherlock pulled something out. Something clinked and Sherlock came back to his side.

“Move your arms to your side, John.” Sherlock ordered and John instantly obeyed.

“You may once lift your hips, John.” John did that, too, wondering what Sherlock wanted to do.

Something got slung around his hips and buckled on his back. Cuffs came around his wrists and they were attached to the belt. But nothing was too tight.

John was so thankful. Tears ran over his face and he sobbed.

“Hush, John...” Sherlock whispered and kissed his face, actually kissed his tears away. Then he blindfolded him and John fully relaxed. No coherent thoughts were in his brain. He just felt warm and fuzzy.

Sherlock’s hand moved over his back, his arse and his thighs and he hummed beneath him. And only now Sherlock attached the pads for the electric treatment. They went on his shoulder, his arm, and his thigh. Cables led down to a machine. Sherlock held it when he sat by John's side on the bed. He carefully switched it on and listened to John's noises.

After a while, he took off the pads and stored the machine away. John wasn't moving or twitching or doing anything. Sherlock carefully rolled him on his back and his head lolled over the pillow. He reached for his cock and slowly pulled it. John let out some breath but nothing more.

Sherlock made him come and he spilt over his hand and a bit over his shirt, too. He quietly groaned and Sherlock took off the blindfold. John blindly stared up into nothing. Sherlock looked at him and licked over his lips.

“John?” There was no reply and his eyes didn't even blink. Sherlock sat by his side and pulled him into his arms. John's head rested on his chest and Sherlock held him close.

This had been extremely nice. It hadn't been rough but John had gone under so quickly. Sherlock had enjoyed this a lot. And the new belt with attached cuffs had worked out, as well.

Sherlock exhaled and closed his eyes. He was tired now. His erection had flagged again and he fell asleep holding John against his body.

***

John slowly woke because he needed the loo. He blinked his eyes open and looked into the semi-dark of Sherlock’s bedroom. Their bedroom? He smiled and sighed. He wanted to get up and tried to lift his arms but couldn't. His hands were still cuffed to the belt around his waist. And he remembered what Sherlock had done. His whole body was still so relaxed and the pain was almost gone.

He turned his head and tried to look at Sherlock who was still fast asleep. His head was tilted to the side and he had drooled. Now John grinned. One arm was slung around him and John felt his heart beating slowly beneath his skin.

“Sherlock?” John said and nudged him but Sherlock didn't react.

Next, John tried to poke him with his fingers but it didn't work. He also tried to lightly kick him but nothing. The urge to let go was getting stronger and he ground his teeth.  
He turned his body and pulled his legs under getting on his knees and out of Sherlock’s hold.

“Sherlock!” John called out a bit louder and now he snuffled and moved a little bit.

“Wake up, please!” John almost shouted but still he didn't wake.

“Fuck!” John thought and bit into the skin where shoulder met neck. This way he managed to wake him up and he suddenly sat up straight pushing John back on the bed.

“What? What's wrong? John?” Sherlock muttered and forced his eyes open. Finally, he was fully awake and focused on John who just looked at him. A broad smile came up and it was open and honest.

“You need to take off this belt. I need the loo.” Sherlock’s eyes roamed over his body and he rubbed over his eyes.

“Yes, sure. I am sorry, I must have fallen asleep.” He shook his head and reached into his pocket. Then he turned his head to look at the night-stand. But there wasn't any key.

“Sherlock, please?” John had rolled off the bed and stood by the side now. Sherlock looked utterly helpless.

“I can't find the key...” Sherlock got off the bed, too, and wildly looked around.

“This is not funny, Sherlock!” John said crossing his legs. Sherlock crawled over the hardwood now.

“I am not joking, John.” He was on his knees shaking out the paper bag but nothing. He looked up at John.

“Can't you reach your cock like this?” He asked. John tried but it didn't work.

“I could assist you?” Sherlock stood again but John wildly shook his head.

“No! Domming me is one thing but the bathroom is something else. You won't _assist_ me in there!”

“Well, I suggest you just sit on the toilet and let go then.” Sherlock looked dead serious. John hurried into the bath and closed the door. Sherlock heard the toilet lid bang against the wall. He swallowed and kept looking for the damn key.  
He finally found it between the bed's frame and the mattress. It must have fallen in there when pulling out the belt.

“John? I found the key!” He called out. The toilet flushed and a beetle red John opened the door.

“Just perfect!” John hissed. Sherlock unlocked the belt and cuffs.

“John, this wasn't on purpose. I am very, very sorry.” Sherlock said and John stared into his eyes. He knew how great an actor Sherlock was but he wouldn't lie to him in this situation. Not as a dom to his sub.

“I know it wasn't. I am sorry for over-reacting like this. It just wasn't funny to me.”

“Everything I do to you turns out shit...” Sherlock turned away and wanted to leave the bedroom.

“What? No! Wait!” John called out. Sherlock stood with his head lowered. He didn't look at him.

“What you did was perfect. I don't feel the pain anymore. My body feels great. I went under and I know you made me come, didn't you?” John said.

“Yes. I wanted to hold you and I fell asleep. I lost the key. How could this happen? I wasn't careful enough. Again!” Now Sherlock sounded very angry with himself.

“Next time you will be more careful. Do not fret! I will take a shower now and so should you. Care to join me?” John asked with a coy smile on his face. Sherlock looked at him and couldn't but smile back.  
He shed his clothes and followed John into the bath.


	4. Chapter Four

A few weeks later the suspension system was ready. Both Sherlock and John looked at the racks and everything now hanging from the ceiling in their bedroom.

“I especially like the swing.” John said.

“So do I.” Sherlock replied. They looked at each other.

“What you do for me...” John shook his head looking up at Sherlock.

“I never want to lose you again. Hurt you again. Not like that anyway.” Sherlock’s smile was quite a bit lopsided.

“You won't lose me. And if you hurt me, it happens with my full consent. I am not some person made from bone china.” John insisted.

“You sure are not, John.” Sherlock’s eyes roamed over his body, over his thick and muscled arms and legs, his broad shoulders, and slim hips. He only wished he would refrain from wearing these jumpers that were hiding way too much of his physique.

“What is it?” John asked and looked down at his body.

“Nothing. Everything.” Sherlock sighed and shook his head. He was behaving stupidly again. He passed by John and left the bedroom. John cast a last longing look at the suspension system and then followed him.  
He found him leaning against the kitchen counter. His head was lowered and his eyes closed. John moved up close and gently touched him leaning against him.

“What's wrong, Sherlock?” He quietly asked and rubbed over his back. He felt how Sherlock’s body first tensed, extremely so, and then slumped. His head came to rest on his arms on the counter. John couldn't see his face but his shoulders shook. Was he crying?

“Sherlock? Talk to me, please!” John insisted and hugged him tight. Sherlock twisted free of his hold and stood up straight. His face was wet. So he had cried.

“I am not worthy of you. I can't handle problems or emotions. I don't know how. I am overwhelmed by everything and I don't know why. I am useless. I can't even concentrate on my cases!” Helplessly he stared at John while the tears kept falling.

John was quite a bit shocked and he chewed on his lips while thinking. And suddenly it dawned on him and he smiled.

“You know, I am overwhelmed too. And you know by what? It is you who make me wonder every single day. Why me? I wonder. How come he wants me not only as a flatmate but in his bed? When I am looking at you my breathing stops because you are so beautiful, so wonderful. And I can't concentrate on anything but you. You know why? Because I am in love with you. I love you.” John had taken his hand while speaking and now his thumb stroked small circles over it.

Sherlock stared at him. He was speechless and his lips were open. Not long and he would start to drool. But finally, he licked his lips and roughly spoke.

“Sometimes I look at you. When the sun strokes your head and your hair shines both golden and silver. When you for once only wear a t-shirt and not one of these ugly jumpers. I admire your physique. You are a strong man. You will always protect me. I know that. You are the first man who can tell me things, order me around and touch me. I feel utterly alone when you are gone to work and I desperately wait until you are back.” John smiled. Sherlock exhaled.

“I have never said the words because I never felt it. But now, after having analysed and listened to you, I believe I can. I love you, John. Very much.”

John just pulled him into his arms and held him. Sherlock’s arms came up and he pressed his body against his own. His chin rested on top of his head and he closed his eyes.

“You give me everything, both in daily life and in your bedroom. I trust you like no one before. I never want to lose you again.” John whispered.

“You won't. I will even try to eat more regularly. For you. For you, I would try to do a lot more.” Now they looked at each other again and Sherlock bent his knees to have the same height as John.

John raised a brow and pulled him close. He kissed him and took over the kiss. Sherlock let him dominate the kiss and had given in.

John kept kissing and groping and he felt Sherlock’s arousal press against his own. He leant back and took his thin wrist. Sherlock looked dazed but still he raised a questioning brow.

“Bedroom...” John whispered and pulled him along and inside.


End file.
